


i keep coming back to you

by hanyolo



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e10 The Greater Fool, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyolo/pseuds/hanyolo
Summary: He can feel her watching him, can tell without looking at her that she has the same look on her face that she did in his office; head tilted, eyes bright and hopeful. When they both thought he was going to kiss her.God, he wishes he had.// another what would have happened if Will and Mac had got their shit together sooner and learnt how to communicate
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	i keep coming back to you

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this at like 3AM and am now uploading it at almost 4AM so there is a chance it is riddled with mistakes and errors but I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block recently so I was just so excited to actually finish something and couldn’t wait to share it. anyway thanks for reading and hope you enjoy! let me know what you think!

Will drops into his desk chair with a huff as soon as Neal and Lonny have left his office. Let them deal with the internet mob, he thinks bitterly. The first threat was months ago and nothing’s come of it and, by this point, he really doubts anything will. 

He glances longingly at the half full bottle of Scotch on the shelf behind his desk (only considers ignoring his doctors orders for the briefest of moments) before turning to his computer and opening up a new tab on chrome. 

Mac had confiscated his copy of New York Magazine after she’d walked in on him reading it forlornly for the third or fourth time. Had literally ripped it from his hands, her jaw clenched, her entire body radiating tension. And he had been ready to argue, had been half-heartedly reaching out for the magazine, when he’d noticed it; the tremble in her chin, the slump in her shoulders, the tears in her eyes. Her bravado finally fading enough for him to see the genuine worry and fear on her face that she had been trying so hard to hide. So Will had let her take it, hadn’t commented on the tears spilling onto her cheeks as she had perched on the edge of the bed, clearly out of fight. He had, however, reached for her hand, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on her soft skin as she’d cried quietly beside him.

They had sat like that for maybe five minutes before Mac rolled her shoulders, steeling herself and standing up, a sheepish look on her face as she dropped his hand. And then it was back to business and, by the time Sloan turned up ten minutes later, Will wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined it.

Of course, there is nothing MacKenzie can do to stop him from accessing the article online. Not like he can’t afford the yearly subscription. 

He clicks on the article - has had it bookmarked for days now, opens up YouTube in a new tab and is halfway through typing in the search bar when he hesitates, fingers hovering above the keyboard. 

The bullpen is starting to empty out as he makes his way to the conference room. Tess says something to him but it doesn’t register and he’s sure Jim is watching him with a frown on his face. But Will doesn’t care about any of that, doesn’t even care that he’s clearly interrupting an interview this poor girl has been waiting for all day, when he opens the door and blurts-

“Why didn’t you tell me?” MacKenzie looks up at him, brow furrowed. “That you were at Northwestern. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mac gives him a pointed look then glances furtively at Sorority Girl (Which, what the fuck? _That’s_ a conversation to be had another time, but right now he wants to talk about this.) - before holding his gaze. “You want to do this now?”

He shrugs his shoulders, stepping into the room so the door closes behind him. Drops into the seat at the other end of the table. 

“I’m so sorry, Jenna,” Mac says to the girl, shooting her an apologetic look. “Would you mind stepping outside for five minutes?”

Sorority girl - _no, Jenna_ \- glances between them, a thoughtful look on her face, before she stands and leaves them alone. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Will repeats, fingers pressing into the table as he leans forward. 

“I was going to,” Mac says thoughtfully, carefully. All too aware that if she says the wrong thing they’ll end up back where they were six months ago. Not that they’re in a much better place right now. “My first day here. You got in the elevator and told me I’d been a hallucination. The doors closed before I had a chance to say otherwise.”

“And what about any other time we’ve been alone in the past eighteen months?”

MacKenzie regards him for a moment, head tilted in thought, before standing and making her way over to him, perches on the edge of the table. She smiles down at him softly, gives him a small shrug. “Are we friends, Will?”

“What? Of course we are.” But Will has enough self-awareness to know that he really doesn’t deserve to sound as offended as he does right now. That MacKenzie has every right to question his feelings towards her, that he’s not exactly treated her very well since she came back. And bringing Brian in to do the story like he did is a prime example of this. 

“I didn’t tell you,” Mac begins slowly, brows knitted together as she gathers her thoughts. “Because - things seemed to be going well between us. Or at least I thought so. And - and I was scared of ruining that.”

Will leans back in his chair so he can see her face more clearly. Can meet her nervous, unsure gaze as he asks, “Were you lying when you said you never got the voicemail?” 

And if she is surprised at the sudden turn their conversation is taking, she doesn’t show it. 

“No,” She says plainly, teeth pressing into her bottom lip as she looks down at him curiously, clearly wondering where he’s going with this but not quite willing to ask him about it right now. 

And he believes her. Trusts her. And maybe that should surprise him more than it does. But when he thinks about it, he put his faith in her the moment he asked her to start two weeks early. That doesn’t mean he knows what to say next, and he’s aware of the panicked look on his face as the words get caught in his throat, tries to turn it into something softer, more apologetic. But he still can’t find the words, is still trying to catch up with his thoughts, his mind that’s been going what feels like a hundred miles an hour since he found out it was her, that she had been at Northwestern. 

MacKenzie meets his eyes once more, a sad, knowing smile on her face. She shakes it off with a huff of laughter, pushes herself off the table. 

“I’ll see you later, Will.”

“Wait-“ He reaches for her hand, tugging gently to stop her from leaving. She turns back to him but he doesn’t meet her gaze, focuses instead on their joined hands. He can feel her watching him, can tell without looking at her that she has the same look on her face that she did in his office; head tilted, eyes bright and hopeful. When they both thought he was going to kiss her. 

God, he wishes he had. 

But she’d taken him by surprise holding up her pad like that, the words on the page as clear as they had been that day at Northwestern as she produced from the audience. 

Of course it’s always been MacKenzie. 

“Okay, this is happening,” Will murmurs, mostly to himself, as he brings himself to stand in front of her, finally meeting her gaze. He squeezes her hand once, lets go before reaching up to tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear. MacKenzie’s eyes flutter closed at his touch and he wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest. 

“What are you doing?” Her voice is quiet, uneven. No more than a whisper. But her eyes are curious, hopeful. And he doesn’t know how he managed three years without her looking at him like that, doesn’t know how there was ever a time when he wanted her to stop looking at him like that. 

“I’m gathering my rosebuds,” Will tells her with a smile, bringing one hand up to cup her face as he leans in to kiss her, pulls back at the last second to add, “And I love you.”

“What?”

She’s frowning slightly but she hasn’t pulled away. If anything, she’s leaning into him, her frown softening into something that looks more like confusion than anger. So he thinks he’s on pretty solid ground here. 

“That’s what the voicemail said,” he continues, eyes fixed on hers. One hand still tangled in her hair, the other now gently cupping her elbow. “I never stopped. And I’m sorry about Brian. The voicemail never said that obviously. But I am. Sorry. And I love you,” he adds on for good measure. 

Will would be laughing at the awestruck look on Mac’s face if he wasn’t about to kiss her for the first time in three years. If she wasn’t leaning into him, too, her hands clutching his waist, her fingers tangled in the soft cotton of his sweater. 

He lets his lips brush softly against hers, a whisper of a kiss, before pulling away slightly to rest his forehead against hers. He doesn’t get very far before Mac has one arm wrapped around his neck, is pulling him impossibly close as she kisses him back, her lips soft and firm. And then he’s lost in her. The feel of her lips on his, her nails scratching lightly through his hair, the hand clutching at his back, holding him against her. Will tightens his grip on her, both arms wrapped around her waist, fingertips digging into the small of her back, as he nips gently at her bottom lip, has to stifle a groan when she presses her hips into his.

“This room is made of glass,” MacKenzie points out breathlessly, leans up to kiss him again anyway. 

“I don’t care,” he murmurs against her lips. She apparently doesn’t care much either, back arching as he peppers kisses along her jawline, down her neck. 

But then someone out in the bullpen cat calls (Don, he thinks) and someone else is wolf whistling (definitely Neal) and, okay, maybe he cares a bit. So he pulls away, albeit reluctantly, dropping his hands from her waist only to take her hand in his and tangle their fingers together. He can’t help the soft laugh that escapes when he sees she is looking up at him with a slight pout, that her eyes are still on his lips. 

“Do you want to get out of here?”

She meets his gaze now, and regards him for a moment. He doesn’t quite know what she is looking for, can only hope she isn’t having second thoughts. Then she nods, bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she holds back a grin. So Will, relieved and unbelievably happy, drops a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth, before he squeezes her hand, starts to lead her towards the door. 

“Wait,” Mac cries suddenly, and he swears his heart stops as he waits for her to go on, once more imagining a worst case scenario where she tells him she’s changed her mind. Instead, she pushes up on her tiptoes, nuzzles her nose against his as she tells him, “I love you, too. Never stopped.”

Will’s response (after trying to kiss her once more, the wide smiles on both their faces making it near impossible) is to tighten his grip on her hand and drag her from the room. Past the staff, who are watching with matching smirks (all but Jim, who is donning a frown), past Sorority Girl, who looks understandably confused and a little bit annoyed (Mac makes a note to text Jim from the car, ask him to finish the poor girl’s interview), past Lonny, who rolls his eyes, tells them _took you long enough_ before trailing them to the elevators once they have collected their things from their respective offices.

For all his joking, Lonny is very professional when the situation calls for it and doesn’t comment on the way MacKenzie and Will huddle together in the elevator, arms wrapped tightly around each other, nor does he comment on the way MacKenzie is practically sprawled across Will’s lap in the backseat of the car, his hand disappearing under her shirt as he mouths small kisses along her jawline, down her neck. Lonny does, however, barely manage to suppress a smirk when he asks Will if he should come back later to take Mac home. Will rolls his eyes, tells him he’s finished for the night, decides to ignore the way Lonny doesn’t even try to hide his smirk at this.

.

The elevator ride is somehow awkward, neither of them quite knowing what to say, the bubble of casual intimacy they had shared on the way home burst the moment the car stopped outside his building. And now Mac is standing maybe two feet away from him, her arms folded across her chest as she fixes her eyes on the floor numbers. Will keeps glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, hands shoved in his pockets as he desperately tries to come up with something to say. 

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open. Mac follows Will into his apartment, tries to focus on anything but the sudden butterflies in her stomach. His apartment is the exact same as it was the two times she’s been here before, not that she spent too much time admiring the decor the second time. Then it hits her that the last time she was here, she’d found Will unconscious on the bathroom floor, lips stained with blood. And all of a sudden the butterflies in her stomach turn into a gnawing pit. 

“Will,” she murmurs, lets her purse slide down her arm and drop to the floor. He hasn’t heard her, has started apologising for the non-existent mess in his living room. “Will,” she repeats, firmer this time, despite the lump building in her throat. 

And he must know something is bothering her because his expression softens and he takes half a step towards her, as though he isn’t entirely sure just how much she’ll let him be there for her. 

“Are you-“ But she realises she doesn’t know what she should be asking, doesn’t know how to broach this subject with him without him shutting down, or without it becoming an argument. So she looks up at him, a pleading look on her face, desperate for him to understand, as she says, “the article was bullshit.”

Will seems to realise then why she is bringing this up, what the look on her face when she’d said his name had meant, because he does step towards her now, slowly brings one hand up to tuck her hair behind her ears. 

“I know,” he says quietly, voice soft but sure. He drops his gaze to somewhere on her shoulder and gives a small shrug. “But maybe I’ll need you to remind me every now and then.”

MacKenzie knows this is the most he can give her right now, but he’s _trying_ and it’s enough. And maybe that’s all they ever needed. To just be there, present and trying and open. She’s ready for that now in a way she wasn’t four years ago, has been ready for a while. 

“I can do that,” Mac says through a watery laugh, blinking away the tears in her eyes. 

All traces of the uncertainty that followed them into the apartment are now gone, the ease and familiarity they once had gradually coming back to them as Will reaches for her, nimble fingers slowly unbuttoning her coat. The shiver that runs through her when he gently slides her coat off her shoulders has nothing to do with the cool air in his apartment. She shrugs her coat off, lets it drop to the floor and, now her arms are free, she reaches up to run her hands along Will’s chest, down to the hem of his sweater so she can pull it over his head.

Will moves his hands to her blouse, fingers stilling on the third button as he looks down at her with a tender, almost reverent look on his face. MacKenzie can feel her cheeks heating up under his gaze. 

“I love you,” he says firmly. “So much.”

“I know,” Mac assures him softly. “I love you, too.”

And she has dreamt of this for so long, feels like her heart might burst out of her chest, especially when Will tells her _I missed you_ , voice tender and full of emotion, before slanting his mouth over hers, his hands firm and warm and _everywhere_. It’s like he can’t get enough of her, like he’s worried they’re going to run out of time. And Mac _gets that_ , especially when they’ve been apart longer than they were together, but they have time and she’s not entirely sure she wants their first time in more than three years to be a half-dressed quickie on his sofa. 

“ _Billy_.” Mac pulls away slightly, runs the pad of her thumb gently along his cheekbone as she gives him a fond smile. “We have time.”

But he doesn’t seem convinced and she can still see the look of desperation in his eyes, can feel the way his hands are clutching at her blouse. Smiling softly, she leans in to press her lips lazily against his before stepping out of his grasp. 

The frown on Will’s face disappears as soon she brings her hands up to finish unbuttoning her blouse. She throws it onto the floor, vaguely in the direction of where her coat and purse had been abandoned, before reaching for Will, tugging gently at his tie as she pulls him to the bedroom. Not that he needed any encouragement to follow her in the first place. 

The bedroom is dark, the only light coming through the windows from the city below. Will brushes past Mac, presses his hand to her hip as he passes, turns on a couple of lamps. 

MacKenzie, standing at the end of his bed in nothing but her skirt and bra, holds her hand out to him. 

“We have time,” she repeats, pulling him towards her and turning them so he can sit on the edge of the bed. And then he’s the one reaching for her, hands holding her steady as she settles on his lap, arms draped loosely over his shoulders. “Hell, we have forever. If you want it.”

His hands tighten their hold on her waist, one shifting slightly so he can ghost his thumb over the scar on her abdomen (he had kept his reaction to a concerned frown, for which she is beyond grateful). 

“Forever,” Will says thoughtfully, kissing along her jawline until he reaches her lips, smiles at the way her stomach muscles twitch under his touch. “I like the sound of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading💕


End file.
